Raven's Question
by Demigod
Summary: Raven asks herself, in lieu of Beast Boy, why he forces her to hate him. After everything that has happened, and what has been happening recently, she wonders if hate is even the right word. BB Raven Oneshot.


A/N: Ok, I don't know why this exists. I had the idea, as cliche as it possibly is, and it wouldn't go away until I wrote it. So here you go, a little BB/Rae oneshot. I realize that this makes three fics with the "Raven's " title. Shush. Anyway, hope you enjoy it. Review when you are done, as I like hearing from readers.

* * *

Why do you make me hate you?

I think the question into the darkness, but I'm asking him. He's not here. Not yet. He can't hear me, and I'm not projecting my thoughts enough for him to hear them either. I'm in my room, as secure a place as I'm allowed. He's in his room, two rooms away.

Why, even now, do you act this way?

I fight the smirk that pulls at my lips. It isn't as if I haven't hated him all along. Hated is the wrong word. Publicly, I make it seem as if I hate him. I don't hate anyone except my father. For Beast Boy, I think... frustration, more so than hatred, is what I feel. He acts like a child, an idiot, to chase away his own problems. He covers his feelings of nervousness and inferiority with jokes and slapstick. He pretends that he's less capable than the rest of us.

He asked me no less than five times today to join in his game of 'Stankball'. He and Cyborg played for two hours. They've both had enough practice that neither of them lost; they've become adept at dodging the ball. I lost, and I wasn't even playing. Meditation was difficult, sitting in Operations with their stupid game rolling past me from time to time. I was trying to stay out of my room, so that I would be around friends. For the trouble, I was rewarded by a 'stank' that took three showers to wash off. I could see the regret in his eyes when the ball hit me. Of course, he didn't let it reach his lips.

He made some annoying joke, though I wasn't listening enough to bother to remember it now. I tore the ball apart, tossing the stiff and greenish socks to the floor, and stormed out of the room. Anyone other than the Titans would say that I hate him. It terrifies me to think that I might start doing so. I feel more frustration towards him with every incident like this, and it starts to create resentment after a while. How long can he continue to annoy me before the frustration turns to anger, or even hatred?

Why does he do it?

Though my room is nearly pitch black, with the heavy curtains drawn tightly against the starlight outside, the calendar on the wall catches my eye. My birthday is only a week away. I survived my previous birthday, and the horrors that followed, with the help of Robin. He believed in me when I didn't even believe in myself, and in the end, with his help as well as the help of the other Titans, I triumphed, and my father was banished from this plane.

For a time, even Beast Boy had been less annoying. I'm still not certain if it was the sudden freedom and relief I felt, or if he had actually grown some self restraint. Whichever it was, it had faded, and he was back to his old ways. If it wasn't an impromptu game of Stankball, it was self deprecating jokes. If it wasn't pretending to be an idiot in combat, it was tripping over a banana peel that he'd left for someone else. Banana peels aren't even all that slippery. His foolishness is transparent.

I sigh, and I push the thoughts out of my mind. I can't stay focused, with the frustration he causes. It has become increasingly important that I stay focused. With the approach of my birthday, the dreams have returned. My father sends them. I don't know what this portends. I can't trust the prophecies any longer, as they've been refuted once already. Still, I can't deny the strength of the visions either.

Steeling myself against what I know is to come, I lay down, pulling the bed covers over myself. My disciplined mind is clear and remains so, and in seconds, I am asleep.

* * *

I wake with a scream; one that begins in the hellfire and sulfur stench of my father's realm, and ends in my room, alone in the total darkness. Again, he stops me from peaceful sleep, and perpetuates my misery a little more.

My scream echoes in my mind, and I realize that it's only a matter of time now. His senses are far beyond anyone else's in the tower. Starfire sleeps like a stone, and would not awaken even if I opened her door and shouted at her. Robin, though he sleeps lightly, also sleeps four rooms down the hall, and is too far for my shout to reach. Cyborg's auditory sensors are disabled for his sleep cycle. Beast Boy always hears me. I don't sense him coming. I never do. His animal forms are too alien to detect. I see, or possibly just imagine, a small fly or gnat moving from the air vent, and a moment later, he's here again. I never manage to see where he starts to change into a human again.

Neither of us speak. We never have, during this. It has only been just over two weeks since it started. My first dream terrified me. It felt as though it lasted hours, and even after I'd awoken, I almost thought that Trigon had destroyed the planet, and all my friends. Then, Beast Boy had been here. I didn't believe it at the time. I thought that he was some sort of hallucination. Neither of us spoke. He simply put his arms around me, and held me as I shook in terror. He simply held me, and I held onto him, and I slept. I slept as peacefully and as calmly as I ever have in my life.

Now we do the same motion, though I'm calmer. I'm used to the dreams by now. No. No, I'll never get used to them, but I'm expecting them now. More importantly, I'm expecting him now. I feel his arms around me, and I lean against him. I show him the side of me that no one on Earth has ever seen. He sees me as I sometimes feel. Desperate. Alone. Scared and helpless. I don't cry; I have to control myself better than that. However, I do hold him, and he holds me.

I feel ridiculous. This man... this _boy_... irritates me in every waking moment. For the first week, I felt as if it had to be another part of the dreams. I felt that there was no way that he could ever have this serious and caring a side to him. For the second week, I felt like I imagine Terra had felt. Manipulated by forces beyond her control. I wondered if perhaps I was simply a replacement 'lost girl' for him.

By now, two days into the third week, I'm beginning to see something else. I can't ignore how he holds me close. I can't turn a blind eye to the protective way in which he squeezes my shoulders. I can't act as though my powers don't sense what he's feeling.

I can't deny feeling the same way.

By day, he's irritating, childish, and annoying. Tomorrow, we will be at odds again, putting on a play of rivalry. He will act stupid and immature, and I will be required to act as though I see no value in him. We won't talk about this. We will act as though it doesn't happen. I sleep well every night, and we don't hold each other on my bed, wrapped in my sheets, our heartbeats loud in the silent room. I don't wake up every morning to him, I don't know that he stays awake all night, watching over me. We are just two teenagers that can barely stand each other, by daylight.

My eyelids feel heavy, as I listen to him breathe. I feel secure with his arms around me, and I feel complete with my arms around him. I can't help but smile, as I realize that I asked the wrong question earlier. He doesn't make me hate him. I should have asked something else.

Why? Why, among all the girls in the world? Why now, when everything may be coming to an end again?

Why did you make me love you?


End file.
